To Call His Own
by Atemusluckygal
Summary: After thousands of years imprisoned in solitude, and four years sharing a life with another, Atem finally comes home. At the golden gates of the Afterlife, he meets someone who had to wait longer than the rest of them for his return, who made it all worth it in the end.


**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!.**

Hey guys! Thought I'd give you a break from the doom 'n gloom of my ongoing fiction "Vices". Here's a short little heart-hugger for you. XO

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 **To Call His Own**  
by Atemusluckygal

As he crossed the threshold leading him into the realm of the Afterlife, Atem twisted his body to look behind him, just barely catching a sliver of Yugi's face before the portal door closed all the way. This was his home now—it was _his_ home, where he belonged, after so long of sharing someone else's.

"Atem!" a young female voice called cheerfully. Atem had barely a moment to face forward before he was nearly thrown off his feet by Mana's affectionate hug. The young sorceress's slender arms encircled his neck, and over her shoulder, he could see the rest of his Court watching him, each with their own version of an expression of elation on their faces. Karim, Shada, and Isis looked on him in resolute allegiance, being some of the first to perish in the fight for justice against Zorc. Seto, tall and dignified, nodded towards his cousin in a gesture meant to convey genuine respect and admiration, contrasting with the reserved but pleased expression on Seto's father, Priest Aknadin, standing beside him. Siamun waved briefly; he was quite animated for a man of his age and position, and he had watched Atem grow from the moment he himself pulled the newborn prince from his mother's womb to the moment Siamun was ripped from the living world on the battlefield. There was no doubt that the vizier had his own affection for the boy much like present-day Solomon loved his grandson. Unlike the either priests who stood tall in Atem's presence, Mahaad was upon one knee, wordlessly echoing his eternal pledge of loyalty towards his king and friend.

"Welcome home, my king," Mahaad greeted him on behalf of the court.

Atem, still a bit disoriented, patted Mana on the back to signal her to release him. "Thank you, Mahaad… everyone. I'm glad to finally be home."

"We've missed you so much," Mana murmured privately in Atem's ear. "Especially me, obviously."

"Obviously," Atem rebounded playfully, so full of joy he couldn't help but laugh.

A rich voice resonated over the cluster of priests… the most effortlessly commanding voice Atem had ever heard, booming in his ears.

"Son."

Atem inhaled sharply. Mana and the priests stepped off to the side and bowed in respect, and the late Pharaoh Aknamkanon marched forward. The middle-aged man exuded authority just by the way he held himself, broad-shouldered and confident, as his feet shuffled over the earth and his regal robes swam majestically with his stride. He reached forward and laid a strong ring-clad hand on his son's shoulder, never releasing him from his piercing gaze.

"You were a worthy king and a true hero, and I couldn't be more proud of you."

A father's approval. Many a young boy had strived for this very reward in every era of the living world, and Atem hadn't yet realized this void in his heart until he felt the sincerity in his father's words fill it to capacity. Upon the former pharaoh's kingly face was the sort of humbled pride reserved for a father's.

"Thank you, Father," Atem returned stoically, grateful that he spoke before the sob in his throat could sully the tone in his voice.

A woman stepped forward, and without a moment of doubt Atem recognized her, even with his lack of memory of her. Her hair was the most sublime masterpiece of flowing wine red locks, highlighted by strands of blonde woven into the bangs framing her face. Her eyes, lined with thick black kohl, practically mirrored the winter sunset over Domino Pier, when the descending pink clouds and indigo sky painted the water a rich amethyst purple. She was at least a foot shorter than her husband, but nonetheless carried herself as a woman of imperial status. Her curvesome figure was adorned by an elegant eggshell-white dress hemmed at her ankles, form-fitting and colorful. Fine gold accessories accented her forehead, wrists, ears and slender neck. Her resplendent smile rivaled Ra's grandiose presence in its radiance.

"Mother..." Atem whispered, frozen in place from shock. His lip trembled as strong emotion took hold of him, and he could hardly bear to hide it any longer.

"My precious son," the woman uttered adoringly as she looked upon her son. Her voice, unlike her husband's, was light and gentle as a brush of feathers. "My Atem."

Atem closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath, already feeling ready to crumble into sobs. He held himself together as best he could as his mother continued to silently assess him. Her hand tightly grasped his, and he brought his other to rest on the back of hers. Her glowing bronze skin was divinely soft, with firm bones underneath as she squeezed.

"I am so regretful that I couldn't be there for you," his mother expressed remorsefully. "I am so, so sorry. After you were born I…" she grimaced, "I fell very ill. The healers did what they could but… I could not fight it for very long."

Out of the corner of his eye, Atem saw his father look woefully to his spouse, and he immediately caught on—this was the first time he was clued in on his mother's fate, and his father must've suffered greatly from this loss, especially noting that his father had expertly dodged any conversation involving her or any questions probing at the truth of her death.

"But, as sorry as I am, seeing you here now brings me so much joy I am unable to express it in words." She reached up to cup the side of her son's face in her other hand, and Atem gratefully leaned into it. "My strong, brave, handsome boy."

"Mother," Atem croaked softly, unable to say anything else. He'd never known the word for himself, only that the world had mothers, and he, unluckily, did not. A tear finally rolled free from his eye despite his best efforts, wiped away by the gentle caress of his mother's thumb.

"To think… I thought that, when I passed on, I'd only have to wait your lifetime to see you again," she continued sadly. "But, because you were so courageous and self-sacrificing, because the Gods chose _my_ son to be the blessed savior of the world, I—we all had to wait much longer than that. So long, it felt like an eternity." Her hand rose to comb through his blonde fringe with her lean fingers. "Is it wrong that, after all these millennia waiting for your return, the first thing I want to do is fuss about your hair?"

Not expecting that, Atem released a tearful chuckle. He laughed more as his composure started to buckle, taking a hand to control the barrage of endless tears streaking over his cheeks. "Not at all," he finally replied, his voice breaking. "My mother scolding me over my hair? It's something I've always wanted."

His mother released him to wipe her own tears away. She reached forward with both hands and held each side of his head, pulling him forward so she could place a long, tender kiss on his forehead with trembling lips. "I love you, Atem, my blessed son."

Atem looked deep into her mother's weeping eyes, feeling his father's hand at his back. "I love you too, Mother. I'm so happy to finally meet you." He and his mother simultaneously pulled each other in a tight embrace, enforced by the former pharaoh's arms.

After long millennia of trial and sacrifice, Atem finally had a home to return to, a family to call his own. His weary soul never felt so much at peace.

END

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A/N: Aw.

My nameless OC shall remain nameless, only because I couldn't find a single part during the scene that had a place for her name to be introduced naturally. It is to be assumed that, while telling her of all his adventures, he'd eventually learn it sometime in the next eternity he spends with her. Hope you liked my interpretation of this unique reunion.

Thanks for reading,

xo ALG


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